


Baby Woes

by Quiet_Shadow



Series: The Woes Series [10]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Babies, Breastfeeding, Multi, Sparklings, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2032050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Decepticons took over Cybertron. The Autobots had more or less resigned themselves to be enslaved or executed. They weren’t prepared, however, for the Decepticons to make them all go through frame regression and turn most of the population into Sparklings and Younglings. They weren’t prepared either to get ‘adopted’ in order to be ‘raised right’ by their enemies-turned-parents/caregivers.</p>
<p>Sentinel, for one, would have prefered execution… It certainly would have been less humiliating!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Regenerated

**Author's Note:**

> Ladies and gents, I'm back... with more Sentinel torture. XD  
> Though this time, it is a bit different. For one, it isn't about interfacing... Well, it isn't about Sentinel interfacing with anyone.  
> On that front, I'm currently working on several multi-chapters Sentinel fics, which are progressing slowly. Let's just say that they might not be ready for a while, and I'm unsure about starting to post them so long they aren't completed. It isn't set in stone though, but we will have to see how things evolve (and if new stories ideas finally leave me alone).
> 
> Anyway, this particular bunny bit me after seeing that fanart on deviant art: http://transformerprimenerd.deviantart.com/art/Baby-Sentinel-Prime-122446636
> 
> Isn't he cute? =3  
> After laughing my head off, I decided to try and write a little something to go along with that picture. What I hadn't planned, though, was for the bunnies to start breeding and attacking me... and with sharp teeth at that. Very, very sharp. Suffice to say, what was once supposed to be a series of humorous ficlet dealing with Sentinel soon turned into a more complexe universe filled with fun, angst and hurt/comfort -- and I'll insist on the last three. Hint: don't let ninja get the drop on you; they won't let you escape.
> 
> Anyway, while I'll post this particular story in the Woes series, as I do with all my Sentinel-centered fics (well, almost), it is also the stepping stone for a new fic universe I'll call 'Project Regen Fiiles -- thank thepheonixqueen for the name suggestion, btw. <3  
> Enjoy yourself and see you around for more TF fics. :)

“Aww, he is so cute,” drawled a voice above him, and Sentinel glared, fists clenching as his optics narrowed, trying to make out the Decepticon who had spoken. The bright light just above the berth didn’t help. His whole body felt weird, and he shuffled uneasily, trying to move away from the cushioned surface he was lying on. However, his moves were unsteady and sluggish, and he barely managed to turn. His processor felt a bit fuzzy, too. It was rather distressing and enraging, because if only he could move… well, he could escape this place and the Decepticons looming around.

“Yes,” someone else said. “Very adorable!”

Sentinel twitched. Damn ‘Cons!

Even now, several orns after it happened, the Prime couldn’t believe the Autobots had fallen, betrayed from the inside by spies and traitors -- not to mention, or so he thought, Optimus’ incompetence in stopping them from using one of the Space Bridges. Oh, he would have words with his former friend if he ever saw him again! But so far, in the prison cell he had been throw in with a bunch of his fellow Elite Guard members, he hadn’t been able to catch a glimpse of the other Prime. Wherever Optimus had been imprisoned himself, it hadn’t been in the same place as most of the Autobots.

After having been beaten, arrested and imprisoned, most Autobots had resigned themselves to be killed off as soon as the Decepticons finished to gloat. They had fully expected their captors to abuse them until the moment they’d eventually decide to snuff their Sparks out. But, to the surprise of the captives, the Decepticons hadn’t mistreated them at all. Actually, they had been… weirdly kind, in a way Sentinel himself found twisted. They had given them plenty of energon and oil to drink, got them blankets and made sure they were… comfortable. But the way they had looked down at them…

Sentinel hadn’t understood what he read in those optics, but it had made him strangely wary. Especially after captives started to get dragged off from their cells… and never came back.

Executions, they all thought, but the ‘Cons had furiously denied it. They had remained vague on what they had done to the other Autobots when asked, just telling the increasingly frantic captives they were being ‘properly taken care of’. Sentinel had snorted. Was it supposed to reassure them? Pacing in his cell, he had been anxiously waiting for his turn to be taken away, knowing it would come soon -- the cells next to his own were starting to empty rather fast.

And earlier… this solar cycle? Yesterday? Several solar cycles ago? it had finally happened. Hands cuffed and gagged, for he had taken the habits to yell at the Decepticons jailers and they hadn’t appreciated it, he had been dragged to a strange lab, where a team of medics and what he supposed were assorted sciencemechs were waiting. Kicking all the way, he had been strapped down to a table, and…

And after that, he didn’t remember. Everything had gone black. The last thing he had heard and felt was a mech patting him on the shoulder and telling him not to worry so much. “It’s alright. Once it’s over, you’ll be much happier. Poor baby…”

Sentinel’s optics narrowed in concentration as he tried to shift again. What was wrong with his body? Was he still under the effects of a sedative or something? He couldn’t think of anything else to explain why he felt so sluggish and his body felt so unresponsive to his orders. With great efforts, he managed to finally turn his head to the side, and he frowned again at what he saw. There were bars before him.

Actual bars.

It made no sense; from the softness under him, he guessed he was lying on a well-padded berth. So why would said berth would be surrounded by bars? It seemed highly impractical to him. Then again, if the berth was designated to keep its occupant prisoner…

“Oh, see? He moved! The little darling is awake!”

“Yes, I saw, I’m not blind, Breakdown,” the second voice from before quipped. Sentinel blinked as a large face suddenly loomed over him, obscuring his vision. “Hi there, little one. Did you have a good nap?”

Good nap? Who did that slagging Con took Sentinel for? The Prime opened his mouth to scream at him, but only some garbled sounds got out of his vocalizer, startling him. He tried again, but the sounds he produced made little more sense. He blinked and felt himself getting angrier. What had these fragging Decepticons done to him?! What sort of experiment had they run on him while he was unconscious? They must have, to have ruined his vocalizer! He started to try and scream, making the Con looking down at him chuckle.

“My, someone is cranky,” he said teasingly. “Oh, baby, don’t be like that! There’s no need to be upset,” he said, smiling down at Sentinel who tried to recoil when a hand went down to pet him. Holy slag, the hand was large! Just how huge was that Con?! As far as he heard, the largest one ever recorded was some freak called Blackout, and the mech looming over him didn’t match the face Sentinel had seen in the profile!

He tensed further when the light of a scan washed over him.

“What do you say, Knock Out? Ten to twelve, right?”

“Hmm, actually, closer to fourteen,” the Decepticon looming over him said as he read the results of the scans. Sentinel looked at him, puzzled. Fourteen? Fourteen what?

“Really? But… but he’s so small!” Sentinel bristled. He wasn’t small! He was even rather tall for an Autobot, thank you very much! He was almost as tall as Ultra Magnus! The Cons were all abnormally tall themselves! There was nothing wrong with the average Autobot’s size!

The Decepticon shrugged. “Autobots are all smaller than normal, you know it. I thought you had seen enough little ones to remember that by now?”

“Yeah… but still…” the other mech mumbled. Another face loomed above Sentinel briefly, and the Prime tensed. This one too was gigantic! Just how many larger than average Cons the Autobots hadn’t known about existed? “That Council… fraggers, all of them. Little ones like this one should never have been…”

“Tell me about that,” Knock Out sighed. “But what’s done is done. Hopefully, we have intervened on time and we can give them a real chance at sparklinghood,” he added, gently patting Sentinel’s helm with his large hand.

Internally, the Prime frowned. Sparklinghood? What was that? He tried to shift and turn again, without much success.

“So, do we send this one down to the crèche to get picked up?” Crèche? Sentinel felt some unease. What were those dirty Cons talking about? And why did he have the sinking feeling he wasn’t going to like it?

“Of course. That’s the normal procedure,” Knock Out’s voice called out. Sentinel tried to yelp when large hands reached for him, but only broken sounds came out of his vocalizer. He wasn’t able to move out of the way before he was grabbed and lifted and then held against a broad chest with infinite caution, feeling dwarfed in the Decepticon’s arms.

That when Sentinel finally realized there was a real problem here. Unless the mech holding him was a Supreme -- and the Decepticons didn’t have that, as far as the Prime knew -- then the fact Sentinel was so little next to him was impossible. On top of that, everything he managed to glance at while the Con walked seemed strangely out of proportion. So… either the world had become bigger…

Or Sentinel had shrunk.

He tried to look down at himself, and for the first time he noticed how… tiny his limbs seemed to be. Optics widening, his lower lip started to shake, and without wanting to, a wail started to escape him. What had those slaggers done to him?!

Knock Out petted him gently and started to rock him in his arms. “Hush, hush baby, it’s alright,” he cooed. “Don’t worry, little one. If everything goes according to plan, before tonight you’ll be home with a brand new Mommy and Daddy to take care of you.”


	2. Adopted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little baby Sentinel gets adopted...

This, Sentinel thought desperately, had to be a nightmare.

It was the only logical explanation. He refused to believe the Decepticons had found a way to mysteriously shrink him, disabling his comms, weapon systems and what seemed to be some if not most of his motors and vocal capacities. It was just impossible. So, it had to be a nightmare. A nightmare that, sadly, felt very, very real, and which was very detailed at that.

The ‘crèche’ the two Decepticons he had ‘met’ over awakening was, as he had discovered, a large room filled with barred berths and a middle sized enclosure where several other shrunken Autobots were sitting or huddling against each other, clearly terrified out of their processors. Sentinel had recognized, among them, a couple of ‘bots he had regularly crossed path with in the halls of Metroplex, secretaries and Elita Guard members alike. There were also more famous ‘bots, such as Glyph, the Femme Archaeometrist. She hadn’t been that large to begin with, but now she really was tiny, and it made her optics appear wider than they were. He had even seen, huddled against each other, one of his fellow Primes and one of the Cadets he had trained back in Bootcamp.

Rodimus appeared a bit bigger than Sentinel was, whereas Ironhide was just smaller still. Both looked very lost, looking around desperately and trying to stay as far away from the Decepticons ‘caregivers’ that sometimes swooped down to take a shrunken Autobot and… hug them. Sometimes, they handed them out to other Decepticons who came alone or in couples and inspected the shrunken Autobots with large smiles on their face. Sometimes, the shrunken Autobots were put back down in the enclosure -- the Prime thought he had heard one of the Con call it a ‘playpen’ -- and sometimes, they were taken away by the Decepticons, crying loudly when they couldn’t voice their disagreement otherwise.

The ones who could still speak were rarer, Sentinel noticed. However, given they could cry and wail, their vocalizers weren’t damaged, so the Prime was puzzled by why they just couldn’t speak normally. He himself had tried again and again to formulate words, but his efforts had been met with mitigated success. He couldn’t make full sentences or pronounce long words, but he had realized he could say things like ‘I’, ‘want’, ‘yes’ and ‘no!’ rather well.

Sadly, it didn’t do much to impress over the ‘caregivers’ how unimpressed and furious he was with them and the whole situation.

Why had the Decepticons done that? Shrunken them? What was the point? What purpose did it serve exactly? He supposed, sort of, that making them small made them more manageable, but he couldn’t work out another reason.

And why the Pit had they covered their aft with pieces of fabric? Sentinel looked distastefully at his own. He had tried to take it off, his hands fumbling for a way of untying the knot, but the damn thing was far too tight for his small, uncoordinated and forceless hands. So for now, he was forced to suffer through the indignity of having a fabric covered bottom. His only consolation was that he wasn’t the only one.

There was a lot of shouts and a lot of crying going on, but it didn’t seem to bother the Decepticons much, if at all. They were still smiling down at them, to Sentinel’s irritation. What irritated him even more was the general apathy everyone seemed to be experimenting. Really, even if the Decepticons were bigs, there were dozens of Autobots in the room! Surely, they could swarm the Decepticons and find a way to get you, shrunken or not?

But the idea didn’t seem to occur to anyone. They just stayed… frozen, probably still in shock. Not that Sentinel didn’t understand them, but really, they needed to get out, and find a way to get back to their proper size!

Ever since he had been brought in the ‘crèche’, he had started to eye the ‘walls’ of the ‘playpen’. They didn’t seem that sturdy. Surely, he could find a way to bring them down? There was a part that seemed more fragile than the others, and perhaps, just perhaps, he could use it to his advantage? Either that, or he could use the wall to support himself, get on his pedes and pass on the other side?

It was easier said than done, he knew that, since he had discovered he couldn’t actually walk. So far, he had moved around on his hands and knees, at an horribly slow pace. If only he had been able to transform in his vehicle form! But his transformations cogs seemed to have been disabled at the same time as the rest of his functions.

Well, it was just another obstacle he’d have to go through. But he was a Prime, an officer of the Elite Guard, and he could do it. He knew he could. A determined look on his face, he started to crawl forward, intent on reaching the wall section that interested him, sticking close to the enclosure’s walls to avoid the ‘caretakers’.

It was, he realized soon after, a mistake.

Before he knew what was happening, he was abruptly lifted into the air by large hands and held up. Surprised and angry, Sentinel shrieked loudly.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” said the Con who had taken hold of him. It was a Femme, a large and rather ugly one at that, the Prime thought. She was mainly purple and red with orange parts. Sentinel glared at her with all his might… which wasn’t much currently, he was forced to admit. The Femme chuckled at his face. “My, spirited, aren’t you?”

“I think it is a Sparkling, my love. And a very cute one at that, I must add,” rumbled a mech next to her. Sentinel glared at him too. The mech smiled crookedly. “Very spirited indeed!” He leaned his face closer to Sentinel, who tried unsuccessfully to hit him. It only made the mech laugh. “Adorable,” he rumbled, sounding pleased. “What do you think?” he asked the Femme, looking in deference at her, making Sentinel pull a face. Ugh. Cons in love! Disgusting!

The Femme looked at the Prime with a large smile. “I think he’ll be perfect. Adorable, and spirited, and very much in need of a good family to raise him right. Yes, I want this one,” she said with a glance at the other Decepticons, who just nodded, smiling.

Sentinel squirmed uneasily. He didn’t like the sound of it at all! A caretaker approached them, and the Prime looked at him almost gratefully. Surely, the mech would take him back to lie with the others? Surely, he would take him away from the two larger, uglier Decepticons?

“General Strika, Lugnut,” he said, nodding at them. “I didn’t know you wanted to adopt. I always thought you wanted your own Sparklings.”

“So we do. But why should it stop us from adopting as well?” the Femme, General Strika, rumbled. “There are so many Sparklings in need of a home, it is our duties as loyal Decepticons to make sure they’re raised in good families and taught the proper things.” She shifted her grip on Sentinel and made him lie against her chest, sitting on one of her arms while the other held the shrunken Prime with precaution. “Besides, Sparking up a ‘bot can take time, and now that the Council and its lackeys have been crushed and their slaves freed, I want to get that family unit started right now. I don’t want to have to wait for Primus and Unicron knows how many vorns before holding a little one.”

“I understand,” the other Decepticon answered easily. “Myself, I’m thinking about taking one or two of my own to raise right now. I’ll always be able to give them some half-siblings later. Knowing you too, I don’t doubt whoever you pick will end up with many playmates at some point,” he chuckled. Lugnut and Strika seemed to share the amusement, much to Sentinel’s consternation and disgust. Family units? What was that supposed to be? And half-siblings? He didn’t understand and frankly, he didn’t want to right now. He wanted to be put down and released and getting back to his proper size, and he wanted it now! He started to fuss and shriek.

The Femme, Strika, started to rock him. “Hush, baby. Adults are speaking,” she said, looking at Sentinel in what seemed to be some sort of fond irritation. Sentinel glared at her some more, and she chuckled. “Adorable.”

The caretaker looked at Sentinel with a little smile. “So this is the one you wish to bring home?”

Lugnut, who had stayed mostly silent, nodded. “Yes. My Consort and I have reached the conclusion he’d be perfect for us. What can you tell us about him?” Sentinel wanted to snort; as if these dirty Cons could know anything about him. To his surprise, however, the caretaker looked at him, helm tilted to the side.

“Hmm, Sentinel Prime, protoform number 09S88Y15X, Spark number 201107 from the Vault 14 in Polyhex. Protoform was Spark-infused in Iacon about 13500 stellar cycles ago. Raised in the Youth Sector W56 before going straight for formation at the Autobot Bootcamp and later, the Academy. Member of the Elite Guard, and one of the most probable candidates to Ultra Magnus’ succession… or so it could have been,” the mech said, optics flashing quickly in distaste. “He underwent the ‘procedure’ just yesterday and woke up earlier this solar cycle, without any ill-effect. Estimated current age is of fourteen vorns. He has some grasp on his motor functions, as you have seen, as well as on his vocalizer, as is normal for a Sparkling of his age. Doctor Knock Out cleared him; our little baby is in the clear and can be adopted anytime, should prospective parents be interested.”

Sentinel stared, mouth gaping. How the Pit did the Cons find out about his protoform and Spark’s numbers?! These things were private! Nobody was supposed to know about them, aside of the medics and… Oh. Of course. They must have seized his medical files. That was the explanation.

Lugnut grimaced. “They really thought about making him Magnus? A mere baby? Every time I think the Autobots couldn’t have been more corrupted…” Sentinel bristled and tried to protest; he wasn’t a ‘baby’, whatever this was -- and he wished they’d stop calling him like that! He was a highly respected member of the Elite Guard, and he had always dreamed of being Magnus! He had been so close!

“Shameful indeed, my love,” Strika said gravely, holding Sentinel closer. “But, never fear. They’ve been crushed, and the little one is safe from their manipulations now. We will ensure that their brainwashing no longer affect him as he grows up like a normal Sparkling.” Lugnut nodded in acknowledgment as he leaned closer to his Consort, watching Sentinel over her shoulder. Strika looked down at Sentinel with a big smile. “Our precious baby will be kept safe,” she swore aloud. “Aren’t you glad, Sentinel? Papa and Mama are going to keep all the bad ‘bots away,” she cooed.

Well, if she wanted to keep the threats to Sentinel away, she could very well start by removing herself from his presence!

“You want to keep the name ‘Sentinel’, my love?” Lugnut asked. The Prime felt a bit alarmed; ‘keep the name Sentinel’?!

Strika nodded. “Yes. It is a good name, and I don’t think changing it would be right. It’d feel like...” she trailed off. “Well, it wouldn’t be correct for the baby, would it?”

The caretaker smiled. “On this point, you’re probably right. Professionals who looked over the project ‘Regen’ before it was started advised against changing any of the little ones’ names. They thought too much change would be detrimental to their equilibrium…”

Strika huffed. “It seems obvious, no?” She smiled down at Sentinel again, and the Prime looked at her in displeasure. “My little Sentinel likes his name, doesn’t he?”

She turned toward the caretaker. “Now, if you don’t mind, Auger, I think it’s high time we bring our new son home. The day must have been really tiring for him, and he must be exhausted. I’d rather have him napping in his brand new berth in the room we prepared for him,” she said rather imperiously.

Auger-the-caretaker nodded. “Sure. It’s true the little one will be better at his new home, settling him with his new parents,” he said, smiling down at Sentinel. “Just take him and drop by the administration desks on your way out. They’ll have a couple of files to make you fill out. Not that we don’t think you’ll make wonderful parents, of course, but you know how it is, we want to keep track of who was adopted where and by whom,” he said, trying to placate Lugnut who had started to look threatening.

The large mech seemed to calm down easily enough. “Of course. What do you say, my love?” he said, turning toward Strika.

The Femme grunted. “Let’s do it and have it over. I want our little Sentinel home with us before tonight.”

Sentinel started to wail as he was carried away. He didn’t want to go with the two burly Decepticons! “Lugnut, do you wish to take him?” Strika called out to her Consort.

“Yes, my love,” Lugnut rumbled, taking Sentinel in his arms easily and holding him up just as securely as Strika did before, gently rocking the shrunken Prime as he walked. “There, there, baby. Papa is here, and Papa is going to take good care of you…”


	3. Feed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel gets introduced to his new 'home'... and to a new way to refuel his tiny tank.

“See, baby, that’s your new berthroom! Isn’t it nice?” Lugnut rumbled pleasantly as he continued to rock the upset Sentinel against him, seemingly deaf to the shrunken Prime’s wails of protests. Not that Sentinel was still wailing, much. He felt far too exhausted for that. Still, he let his discomfort and absolute refusal of the situation known by crying at random interval and trying to kick his Decepticon captors as hard as he could. Which, granted, didn’t account for much, what’s with the Decepticons thick plating, and Sentinel’s small size. And, well, the fact Sentinel couldn’t even kick that well, his movements being so sluggish.

Worse, the two Decepticons holding him and declaring themselves his ‘Papa’ and ‘Mama’ seemed to find his attempts at hitting them ‘cute’.

Ugh. Decepticons were weird.

That didn’t stop Sentinel from glaring as mightily as possible at the Decepticon couple. Just wait until he was back to his proper size! He would be wiping the floor with them! But for now, he had to settle on the fact he was small, helpless, unable to escape (yet) and being… disturbingly cooed at, nuzzled and kissed by both Cons.

Hiding his grimace of disgust as well as he could, he glanced at the ‘berthroom’ the two Cons insisted was to be his. It was a large-sized room, he had to acknowledge it, well lighted by a large window taking a good part of one of the walls. It had been painted in soft purple and dark pink hues, rather reminiscent of that Femme Strika’s paintjob. Not colors Sentinel liked much, but it could have been worse, he supposed. There were a also some teal carpets on the floor, especially at the foot of some furnitures.

He first noticed the prison-berth, like he liked to call it -- even if, apparently, the proper name for it was ‘crib’. It had been installed in the middle of the room and was, Sentinel noticed, easily visible from the door. Drat; he could hardly escape the thing without being caught. A mobile was suspended right over it, and the Prime grimaced as it noticed it was mainly composed of small Decepticon symbols, as well as faces from Megatron and the two Cons who were holding him captive.

Speaking of Megatron… was that a portrait of the mech on that height gauge on the wall?... Yes, yes it was, Sentinel noticed, feeling disturbed. Megatron’s cartoonish representation was smirking and standing tall, with a bubble of Cybertronian text next to his face proclaiming ‘Someday, you’ll be as tall as me’. Primus… what was that supposed to be? An encouragement? If so, Sentinel didn’t think it was a good one.

There was a big couch against one of the walls, probably destined to the two Cons. There were some sort of pictures hanging on the walls, but Sentinel couldn’t see them well from where he was. Also, the place seemed to be filled with… toys.

Now, Sentinel knew what a toy was. He was, however, puzzled over their use. Sure, just protoformed mechs were often given some to guide them while they received a first education in the Youth Sectors -- they were handed dolls with who they had to simulate interactions, and stuff like that. But what purpose did it serve for an adult mech like his? And why were there so many lying around anyway?

Dolls, animal-shapes made of some sort of fluffy material he imagined was soft to the touch, cubes, little cars, balls, puppets, a small drum and xylophone,... They were lined up on the shelves alongside bookfiles, or put on display on the cover of a chest, or just lying on the floor. A doll and one animal-shaped toy were actually sitting at a small table, before miniature empty cubes of energon. So weird, Sentinel thought.

Lugnut was still rocking him in his arms and seemed to interpret Sentinel’s lack of upset noises as a sign the Sparkling-sized Prime was actually approving. He smiled. “Isn’t that the prettiest little room for the cutest baby?” he cooed. “And look,” he added as he showed Sentinel the mobile. “Your Papa and Mama and the glorious Lord Megatron will watch over your recharge!”

Was that supposed to reassure him?! Lugnut rocked him in his arms again. “But don’t you worry, it isn’t for right away. First off, you’ll come to sleep with Mama and Papa,” he chuckled. “Mama and Papa want their baby secure with them. No, they won’t abandon him right away, alone in his own room. Our baby needs to learn to know his parents, doesn’t he?” he said, nuzzling Sentinel, who wailed in answer. “Aww, is our baby upset by something?”

“He might be hungry, my Love,” Strika said as she joined them, smiling down at Sentinel. Ugh. She was ugly even when she smiled, the Prime thought in distaste. “I reckon he mustn’t have refueled yet since he first awoke at the crèche’s hospital. You are hungry, are you not, Sentinel baby?” she cooed.

Sentinel wanted to grumbled and deny, which he would have done if he still had had a voice. However, he did not, and… well, the Femme wasn’t wrong. He did feel in need to refuel, so he just pouted and looked at her, opening his mouth, showing he indeed was willing to gulp down on a cube of energon, or perhaps some oil. At the same time, Sentinel’s fuel tank… rumbled, and he looked down at himself, mortified. The slag…?

Strika chuckled. “I knew it! Our baby is famished! His little tummy needs to be filled with good enriched energon, doesn’t it baby?” she cooed.

Enriched energon? It sounded alright, Sentinel supposed. Strika’s massive hand patted his helm gently. “Don’t worry, Papa is going to give you your fuel right away. Are you not, Lugnut?” she said, smiling at her mate, who nodded.

“Of course, my Love. Anything for our son,” he rumbled as he walked toward the couch in Sentinel’s room and sat precautiously on it. “Aren’t you a lucky baby,” he cooed. “Your Mama made sure her baby only had the best fuel. Tested it herself,” he smiled in a rather goofy way.

Strika chuckled. “Oh, but it was nothing. I just wanted to be a good Mama for my little one. My baby only deserve the best. Yes you do, yes you do,” she cooed at Sentinel.

Sentinel felt like preening a bit. Well, these Cons were weird, but apparently, they’d make good… jailors, if they were willing to try and provide him with the best fuel they could. He looked around as much as he could with his weak mobility. Where was the energon cube he was supposed to drink? He couldn’t see any around, and neither the ugly femme or the big oaf reached for their subspace pocket.

Instead, Sentinel was shifted so he was lying still in Lugnut’s arms, face turned toward the oaf’s chest. And, to his surprise, the teal and purple mech’s chest… parted. Sentinel could only stare as he came to view strange systems and circuits. Most intriguing were two flat… pouches, he supposed, that seemed to start to get bigger the longer Sentinel stared at them. With a start, he realized it was not just an impression. The two flat things were indeed becoming wider and bigger, and were starting to glow with the soft pink light of energon. He shuffled uneasily.

What were these things?!

He eyed the two… lump-things distrustfully for a moment, optics fixated on some sort of… nubs at the apex of each lump. Was that… was that a drop of energon he was seeing leaking out of one of them? Erk. The Con’s systems had to be in severe bad state if he had leaks like that in his systems!

Lugnut, however, didn’t seem worried. He was looking down at Sentinel with a big smile. ‘And who’s going to get the good energon? It’s Sentinel,” he almost sing-songed as he moved Sentinel, lifting him to bring the Sparkling-sized mech’s face at the level of his energon pouches, making the shrunken Prime twitch and stare at him in mute horror.

Was the Con actually implying he should… drink the energon leaking out of that lumpy thing?!

Sentinel started to shook his head and wail. No way he was doing that! Lugnut frowned. “What’s wrong, baby?” he cooed. “There, take a lick at the good energon Papa’s systems enriched just for you,” he encouraged the Sparkling in his arms, trying to make Sentinel take the nub of one his energon pouch in his mouth. The shrunken Prime, however, just turned his head away and wailed harder. “Oh, baby, what’s wrong?”

“He may not know how to suckle,” Strika rumbled as she came to sit next to Lugnut, watching their Sparkling with fondness.

Lugnut blinked. “I thought it was an ingrained reflex in all Sparklings?”

“Normally,” Strika confirmed. “But he was a protoformed mech before he was our baby,” she said, patting Sentinel’s helm with her large hand, making the Prime watch her warily without breaking off his wails. “It’s not a reflex for him. So, we must encourage him.” She grabbed one of Lugnut’s pouches and started to pinch the nub between two of her massive fingers, making Lugnut grunt as droplets of purplish energon came out. “There baby, take a taste of the yummy energon,” she cooed at Sentinel, who stared at the liquid in fright and disgust.

Ugh. No way he was drinking that!

Strika pinched Lugnut’s nub harder, making a small rivulet of fluid get out even as she gently cupped Sentinel’s helm and tried to put his face against her Consort’s pouch, encouraging him to lick it off. Sentinel, stubborn, stopped his wails and refused to open his mouth or even dart his glossa out. His refusal was starting to make Lugnut agitated.

“He really doesn’t seem like he wants to, my love,” he said uneasily, looking down at their new Sparkling with a frown. It was bad. Surely, the little darling had to be hungry? His fuel tank had rumbled so loudly… and still he was refusing to refuel! It was most distressing, especially since Lugnut had really looked forward to being a good Papa for the little mechling. How could he hope to be so, when his baby was so upset he couldn’t even suckle properly. “Perhaps I should use a breast-pump, or perhaps I could prepare him a bottle? After all…” he tried to say, searching for an alternate solution to use. It wouldn’t do to let his Sparkling starve, and if he had to use a bottle, then so be it. Strika, however, cut him out before he had finished speaking.

“Absolutely not,” she said in a commanding tone, showing exactly why Megatron had chosen her to be one of his Generals. “Suckling fuel out of a Carrier or Sire’s pouch is indispensable to create a good bond between parents and offspring. It is also the surest way to feed a little one good quality, impurity-free fuel, and I won’t have any of my Sparklings be fed with sub quality products when my mate’s pouches are so fuel of good energon for them,” she said with authority, optics narrowed. “Breast-pumps should only be used if we need to put our little Sentinel in daycare and can’t be back in time for his refueling. But so long he’s home, he will suckle from you or me,” she said with finality, forbidding Lugnut to argue the point.

The purple and teal mech nodded in submission. “Very well, my love. You’re right, of course. But what should we do, then?”

“What every parents with some authority should do,” she said, optics narrowed as she grabbed Sentinel’s helm, albeit gently, in one of her massive hands. Sentinel yelped in fright -- and realized too late it was exactly what the large Decepticon Femme had been hoping for. The very moment he opened his mouth, she was turning his head and pressing his face against Lugnut’s pouch, and Sentinel’s mouth unwillingly closed on the nub.

The Prime started bawling -- or tried to. In his current position, the noises were muffled, and he couldn’t really open his mouth or even shake his head to free himself -- Strika was still holding him firmly, though it was clear she was minding her hold and strength in order not to hurt him, which the Prime found very at odd with his current situation.

His glossa accidentally rolled over Lugnut’s nub and pressed it against his palate and, suddenly, warm fluid seemed to erupt in his mouth. He choked on it, unwilling to actually swallow it, but it was filling his mouth so fast, and he couldn’t open his mouth to spit it out… Spark sinking, he gulped down a mouthful of the fluid… and had to pause briefly.

The taste was a bit off when compared to the energon he had had the privilege to drink before -- it felt both lighter in taste but also thicker and there were tastes on his glossa, minerals and metal supplements he couldn’t identify, his glossa’s sensors being quite dulled by his shrinking -- but it didn’t feel half-bad. Curious, but not half-bad.

… That didn’t mean he wanted to drink it! Especially not if it came from a big, burly Decepticon’s body! Still, because he couldn’t move his head or really let go of the nub, he took another mouthful. And another. And yet another. Unhappily, he continued to make the fluid drop out of the pouch, actually sucking on the nub at some point.

It made Lugnut chuckle and Strika smile approvingly. “So much for not having a suckle reflex,” Lugnut mentioned.

“Sparklings can learn fast,” Strika said with a smirk. “Especially with the right help. You should keep holding his head when you’re feeding him, until he starts not needing help to refuel. And even then, you should continue. Baby needs to learn to obey, eh?” she rumbled, looking at Sentinel with a mix of fondness and irritation. Sentinel couldn’t exactly glare at her, given his current position, but he still managed to dare a very cross look at her from the corner of his optics.

It seemed to greatly amuse the Decepticon General. “Aww, would you look at that, Lugnut; isn’t our baby cute when he tries to glare like a grown up?”

“Indeed, my Love,” Lugnut chuckled as he smiled down at Sentinel. “Such an adorable baby, just for us to love and raise right,” he cooed. “We’ll need to celebrate his arrival, don’t you think?” he said, glancing at Strika with a fond smile.

“That we do,” she nodded, also smiling. “Our first baby… I can’t wait to show him to everyone!” she chuckled. “Say, Lugnut, since it is his first feeding time, shouldn’t we immortalize this moment?”

“Already recording, my dear,” the purple and teal mech rumbled pleasantly. “Though perhaps some additional captures wouldn’t hurt. We could frame them… put them on display in the halls for our guests to see… And keep one on ourselves when we go to work for our glorious Lord, to show how cute our little one is,” he mused aloud.

Sentinel twitched. He didn’t want anyone to take pictures of him in that state! And he certainly didn’t want anyone to see them! No way he was getting humiliated by being shown around -- even if only through pictures -- to other Decepticons! Especially not when he was… sucking… on a weird lump on a Con’s chest! And he didn’t even want to think about what would be said of the weird fabric covering his aft!

Mentally growling, he continued to suck on that nub thing without much enthusiasm. His only consolation was that his energy levels were getting back up, and that his fuel tank seemed to get pleasantly full. The two Cons, however, didn’t seem in any hurry to release him. He felt the cold prickling of a scan wash over him and he stilled.

“Hmm, yes, he does seem to have refueled enough,” Strika mused as she analyzed the results. “I think it’ll be enough for now,” she decided. “Was Papa’s fuel as yummy for you as it was for Mama when she tried it out?” she cooed at Sentinel as she released his helm and the shrunken Prime, not losing the opportunity, threw his head back and released the forced hold he had had on Lugnut’s pouch. He grimaced as plenty of fluid dripped over his chin.

“Aww, baby is all messy,” Strika chuckled as she took a rag out of subspace and started to wipe out the mess on her Sparkling’s face. Sentinel pouted and looked at her crossly, which only seemed to amuse her more. “Such a cute little face,” she cooed. “Give him to me,” she ordered her mate.

Lugnut pouted. “Aww, but I wanted to hold him longer,” he said, even though he obeyed and handed over the shrunken Prime to his mate.

“You’ll get to do that plenty when I’ll go back to work,” the Femme groused. “For now, I want to spend some time with my son. Isn’t he adorable?” she smiled as Sentinel tried to kick him. “And such a fiery little mech!”

“Yes, indeed,” Lugnut approved. “He’ll make a great soldier someday, serving Lord Megatron faithfully alongside us…” Sentinel sneered, though the expression was lost on his Sparkling face. He’d never serve Megatron! He was an Autobot, not some dirty Con! Someday, once he managed to walk and not just crawl around, he’d escape this place and go gather other Autobots, he’d reform the Elite Guard and become the new Magnus! Then he’d take the tyrant down and would free Cybertron from the Decepticons!

Someday.

“I’m not sure I want my baby to be a soldier,” Strika frowned as she watched Sentinel. “Really, he’s so tiny…”

“He’s going to grow up, love,” Lugnut pointed out, and Sentinel perked up. So he was going to retain his normal size? That was a very good news! “Of course, these Autobots were really on the puny side, but once they’ll have a chance to grown up like normal Sparklings, you can be sure their final frame will be closer to our own size. And this one,” he said, stroking Sentinel’s head, “was part of the Elite Guard. Of course, it was a kiddy club--” Sentinel bristled at that, sensing it was an insult “-- but they were halfway competent. He’ll make a good warrior.”

“Hmph.” Strika didn’t seem convinced. “No,” she said finally. “I don’t want him to be a soldier ever again. I’d prefer him to have him safe at home or in a office work, with a good mate to watch over him and keep him out of trouble,” she decided. She hugged Sentinel close to her frame. “And this one was indeed trouble, if I believe the files I accessed while you were making him visit. Little mech seems to attract bad luck. Don’t worry, baby, Mama is going to protect you,” she rumbled.

Sentinel looked at her in disbelief. Mate? Keep him out of trouble? Who did that Femme think she was to decide that?! And why would Sentinel have a mate in the first place? What was a mate even supposed to be?!

And Sentinel had never gotten into trouble!

… aside of Archa Seven and losing Elita. And then there was that time in Boot Camp where a tower had fallen on him, courtesy of a noisy, stupid Cadet. Then there was another couples of incidents with other classes he had taught… And the ‘Headmaster’ thing back on that dirt ball. And was it his fault organic had such primitive signaletic on roads?

None of this was his fault at all!

“Hmm, it might not be a bad idea, if he’s so accident prone,” Lugnut allowed. “But it’ll take thousands of vorns before he’s grown up enough to think about a job, let alone ‘leave the nest’,” he said, nuzzling his mate and smiling down at Sentinel, who twitched.

Thousand of vorns before he was back to his normal frame?!

He shifted in the Femme Decepticon’s arms, wanting to be put down. He was getting tired of being constantly held… Actually, he was getting tired, period, he realized as his optics shuttered and onlined in quick succession several times in a row. That… made no sense. He couldn’t have been awake for so long, could he? He shouldn’t be tired… but all at once, he felt sleepy, and he had to fight against recharge.

It didn’t escape the two Decepticons’ notice.

“Aww, is our little baby sleepy?” Strika cooed.

Lugnut chuckled. “He would be. Sparklings his age often nap. I guess it’s time to pull him down in his crib,” he smiled.

“The one in our room,” Strika rumbled. “I don’t want to let him out of my sight just yet,” she said, glancing at Lugnut.

“I understand,” the mech rumbled. “I don’t want to either.” He rose from the couch and helped Strika rise in turn, mindful of Sentinel’s fragile frame. Sentinel made some sound of distress as he was carried toward another room -- he didn’t want to go with them, and he didn’t want to recharge, especially not when they were around and could do whatever with him! But he was fighting a losing battle, he realized as he had more and more trouble keeping his optics online, and his head was starting to lull to the side.

When Strika put him down in the smaller, less fancy crib the couple had chosen to install in their room to help their new baby getting used to them, he was already in recharge. He didn’t feel Lugnut putting a cover over him, nor did he feel Strika sneak a Megatron-like doll in his arms.

The couple watched over his sleeping form for a moment before Lugnut started to shuffle uneasily. “So… what should we do while he’s resting?” he asked, glancing at his mate with a small teasing smile.

Strika started to smirk. “Oh, I may have a few ideas,” she mentioned, one of her hands suddenly reaching out for Lugnut’s aft and giving it a squeeze. Lugnut gasped. “You were looking very… sexy, holding our little Sentinel,” she purred.

“Is that so?” Lugnut rumbled pleasantly, putting his arms around his Consort’s shoulders and pulling her close. Strika’s hand cupped his interface panel and he moaned softly, rubbing against her hand. His plating was getting hot already.

“Oh yes,” Strika purred. “I loved seeing him in your arms, so tiny and adorable,” she said, kissing him. “I kept picturing you, with our little Sentinel in your arm, and your belly swollen with another Sparkling,” she continued, stroking Lugnut’s panel until she heard it click open. Lugnut shuddered. She smirked. “So… how about we try and make Sentinel a sibling to play with?” she purred.

Lugnut purred. “Your desires are my orders, ma’am,” he said as Strika pushed him flat on the berth and he spread his legs eagerly for her. Strika climbed on the berth and knelt between her Consort’s thighs, her own panel retracting to let out her already stiff spike. She smirked down at Lugnut even as she grabbed his legs and spread them further, lining herself up with her lover’s valve.

“Let’s make that baby, shall we?” she purred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, third part of 'Baby Woes' posted. \o/
> 
> I have now a question for you, dear readers. So far, 'Baby Woes' only contain four parts; more are planned, of course, but my plans for this fic were derailed a good while ago by other fic projects (see my Tumblr post for more details, link to the blog in my profile) and I haven't yet found the inspiration or drive to write more baby!Sentinel, as other characters stole the show.
> 
> This is why I'm going to ask this: what part of the Project Regen Files would you prefer to see posted next? Sentinel's fourth part or another character's story (and no, I won't say which character yet, that'll be a surprise)?
> 
> You can state what you prefer in a review or directly on Tumblr; thank for your answers. <3


	4. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel gets accidentally introduced to 'adult stuff'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the fourth part of Sentinel's story -- which should be followed later on by short prompt fills and perhaps another 'long chapter' or two when I'll get around writing them. :)  
> Enjoy <3

The noise woke him up.

At first, he had no idea what it was at all. Sentinel just knew there was something going on, but he couldn’t bring himself to light his optics. Or rather, he couldn’t. His processor was catching on, but his body was rebooting at a slower rate, which he found very annoying -- not to mention worrisome. He shifted in his half-recharge, face twitching as he grimaced.

Whatever he was lying on was comfortable, of course, and he felt marvellously warm for some reason, but he still felt incredibly anxious, because he remembered where he was -- or rather, with who. He had been recharging in the same house as two dangerous Decepticons! Who knew what the could have do to him while he was unaware?!

Granted, it couldn’t be worse than what had already be done to him. The whole shrunk business and being picked up and taken home by two Cons as if he was a pet was probably the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him -- even counting that Earth business. And then having to suck fuel out of these… things on that large, ugly Decepticon’s chest…

Ugh. He was never going to do it again if he could help it.

He turned uneasily, a bit hampered by the thing wrapped around him -- some sort of heating cover like the ones used by old mechs, he supposed -- and whatever was lying in his arms. Normally, he would have rejected and throw it away, but it felt soft and warm and… reassuring, according to his processor. It was very weird; there seemed to be several subroutines in his CPU that seemed to have popped up ever since he first woke up in… in his current state. He hadn’t really noticed them at first, but lying there, processors overworking, he couldn’t help but become very aware of them.

They seemed benign enough, he supposed, but they felt pretty weird at the same time. Notices told him his body needed the warmth, that it appreciated the softness of whatever-he-was-holding, that his fuel tank was half-empty already -- and how was it even possible?! He hoped it didn’t mean the dirty Cons weren’t going to force feed him that weird fuel again! -- that he could beneficiate from some extra recharge even if he didn’t feel like it,...

Like he had said, benign enough. However, other notices felt more like alert and Sentinel found them very worrisome. Like the fact his EMP field was seeking very hard another one he couldn’t identify. Or the fact his body was warning him of an imminent purge. Ugh. He hoped it wasn’t a real purge; these things were troublesome and always left him reeling, his throat in fire as badly processed fuel got out. It only happened to ‘bots who didn’t consume good quality fuel and whose systems were struggling to adapt. That, or to ‘bots who had gotten poisoned.

Pit, had the Decepticons poisoned him with their weird fuel?!

He very much wanted to start flailing with panic, but his body didn’t move -- aside of some twitching as he tried to move. He managed to emit a complaint, though, but the sound was easily lost in the noise the two Cons near by were making. Very weird sounds, Sentinel thought as he managed to power his optics just a little.

The very first thing he saw was the soft object he had been cuddling with, and he had to refrain himself from gasping and growling. Even with his impaired, too-slowly-rebooting vision, it would have been hard for him not to recognize Megatron -- or at least, some kind of toy that looked like Megatron, if weirdly proportioned. In disgust, he threw it as far away from him as he could. The toy just hit the bars of his prison-berth and stayed there. Wiggling, he pushed away his cover as well. Now wasn’t the time to be warm and comfortable. Now was a time for observation and trying to find a way out, as well as checking over what the Pit the two Decepticons holding him captive were doing.

He turned and shifted again to lean closer to the bars and peered through them at the two noisy Decepticons. He couldn’t see much at first. Everything was blurred. He could barely make out the two ‘Cons shapes on the berth next to his prison-berth. He could hear them just fine, however. And… it was most puzzling.

“Hmm… oh… ah… ah, yes… yesssss, like that! Ah… har… harder!”

That sounded like that oaf Lugnut. He was moaning and whimpering and panting, and he could hear that Strika femme pant alongside him and grunt. Were they fighting somehow? He hoped they were, and that one of them was going to severely damage the other or send him or her offline. Then he could perhaps escape this crazy place!

Except… well, he couldn’t exactly see what they were doing, his optics were rebooting and focusing far too slowly for that, but they didn’t seem to be fighting, exactly. He could make out Lugnut’s shape lying down on his back on the berth, and Strika was atop him, settled between his legs, and she seemed to be… rocking. It was unlike any fighting Sentinel knew, and he pouted as he tried to narrow his optics and look closer at what was happening.

“Y… You like it, don’t you?” he heard Strika grunt as he became more and more aware of the clanging of metal on metal. Ugh. Were these two into some sort of weird masochism kink and enjoyed hitting each other? Decepticons were even sicker than he had ever been told if that was the case! “You like it when I fill you with my big, thick spike,” he heard her purr as Lugnut moaned even louder.

‘Spike’? ‘Fill’? Weird. He hadn’t noticed any spikes on Strika’s frame, nor did Sentinel guess how she could fill up one into Lugnut’s armor. From what he had managed to see, the oafy, fanatically loyal mech was heavily armored, so surely he couldn’t get stabbed by anything short of a fully-powered energon-dagger…

“My Consort is beautiful in pleasure,” he heard Strika again, and he noticed that the fuzzy blot she was in his diminished vision was starting to move faster. “Yeeesss…” she hissed.

“Oooooh, Strika!” The clanging noises picked up and became even noisier, to Sentinel’s distaste. The Pit were they doing?

His vision cleared gradually, and he fell his small jaw open in shock. The Pit were they doing indeed?! Lugnut’s legs were spread wide and held up over Strika’s shoulder as he was grabbing to the padding of their berth. There was a… a thing standing between his legs, which was, Sentinel supposed, vaguely spiky-looking, though the tip was blunt. It was ridged from the very top to the bottom, and seeming to be sprouting out of Lugnut’s pelvic armor, from a round opening. Some bead of fluids seemed to be leaking from the tip. It was… it was disgusting, Sentinel thought, repulsed.

But it wasn’t the worse, oh no. The worse, in Sentinel’s opinion was… was the… the opening, he didn’t know how to call it, opening or hole, located underneath the spiky-looking thing, into which Strika was currently pounding with her own spiky-thing. Fluids seemed to leak and drip out of that hole-thing all around the spiky-thing that filled it up. The hole-thing was stretched almost obscenely wide, to the point Sentinel wondered how the Pit the other Con wasn’t wailing in pain -- surely, a gap like that in the armor and protoform, which was ruthlessly stretched and filled with a blunt, large object, had to hurt?

But Lugnut didn’t seem in pain at all. He was screaming, true, but he was actually screaming in bliss -- and Pit, was it weird and utterly disturbing for the Prime!

“Oooh… ooooh, Strika, I’m going to… going to come,” he whimpered, and the large, ugly Femme grunted.

“So do come, my Consort. Overload for me!”

Sentinel was really unsure of what happened. Just that a moment later, Lugnut was actually screaming his head off as he frame tensed and shook. He grabbed the berth padding almost to the point of tearing it up. For some reason, Strika grunted loudly as well and stilled. More fluid seemed to burst from Lugnut’s hole-thing despite the spike-thingy obstructing it. Strika seemed to collapse over her ‘Consort’ even as Lugnut relaxed, and the two remained like that for a while.

“Pit, that was intense,” the male Decepticon finally said as he wrapped his arms around the large Femme still pinning him to the berth. “Hadn’t had an overload like it in stellar cycles.”

“Probably because that was the first time I saw you in stellar cycles and toys are only good for a while,” the Femme rumbled as she started to… lick the other Decepticon’s face. Ugh. So unsanitary, Sentinel thought, unhappy.

He shifted and turned his back to them, not wanting to let them see he was awake, his processor still reeling from what he had just witnessed. What had that all been about? Not that it mattered. It was just utterly wrong and disgusting and Decepticons were truly sick mechas to indulge into such practices. Thankfully, them Autobots never had and never would, which was a consolation.

Now, if he managed to escape these Cons and this place, it would be an ever better consolation.

He shifted again uneasily. There was something… something wrong with his frame. He could feel it. There was something… uncomfortable in his body. He didn’t know how to explain it, he just knew something wasn’t right, if only because there was several ping alerts that hit him at once.

Just as he realized it, he felt… something. A small panel seemed to open in his pelvic plating and suddenly, he felt the fabric wrapped around his aft get wet. Spark sinking, he tried to look down at himself, only to see weird bluish spots on the once pristine white linen of his ‘nappies’.

He couldn’t help it.

He wailed.

What the Pit happened?! Why had he… leaked fluid from his bottom? He shifted, wailing even more and drawing the attention of his two ‘caretakers’, who immediately fumbled to rise from their berth and pick him up. Before Sentinel had even realized what was happening, he was scooped in large arms and held close a broad chest, a calming EM field extending around him. To his mortification and alarm, which only added to his present distress, he realized his own field reached out for the one of the Con holding him. The slag?!

“Hush, baby,” Lugnut rumbled, even as Strika cooed and stroked one of Sentinel’s cheek with one of her massive fingers. “What’s wrong? Did you have a bad memory purge during your recharge?” No kidding, Sentinel thought distantly. He was living in a bad memory purge since the Decepticons had won! The oaf cooed. He was stroking Sentinel’s too, making small circles in the shrunken Prime’s back in what was probably an attempt at sooth him. Sentinel just wailed even more.

“I think our baby is more upset at having wet his nappies,” Strika said aloud as she noted the strain over the white linen. “Is that what is wrong, baby?” she cooed, and Sentinel glared at her. How did she dare humiliate him like that? “Oh, Sentinel sweetie, it’s okay, Mommy and Daddy aren’t upset,” she cooed again. They weren’t upset? How great for them, Sentinel thought sarcastically.

“Better change him now,” Lugnut rumbled. “Should we give him a bath at the same time?” Sentinel’s wails decreased a bit. A bath? That sounded good.

“Might not be a bad idea,” Strika rumbled. “I want my Sparkling healthy, clean and spotless, like a deserving heir should be. We should bath him twice a solar cycle to be sure.” Well, as much as Sentinel wanted to disagree with her, she had the right feeling about it, he thought. He liked being clean. And regular bath would help to dispose of the dreaded Decepticon Cooties.

Wait, what? Where did that word came from?! Pitpitpit… Just how many things were wrong with him?! He sniffed and wailed, and the two Decepticons’ EM fields seemed to extend wider, almost smothering him.

“Hmm, how about we prepare a bubble bath? Perhaps with added perfume?” Lugnut mused aloud even as he continued to try and sooth the restless Sparkling in his arms.

Bubbles? Bubbles didn’t sound bad. His EM field flared briefly, mingling with Strika and Lugnut’s owns, and they chuckled.

“Looks like he approves of getting cleaned up,” Strika said, smiling widely. “I guess it’s mean we’ll have to invest in a lot of toys for the bath. And soft towels,” she added as she reached for Sentinel and took him from Lugnut’s arms. “Soft, and plushy, and personalized. Nothing too good for my baby,” she gushed as she carried Sentinel off.

Well, at least the Femme had some consideration for him, Sentinel thought, trying to not show he was somewhat interested by the idea. He continued to try and voice protests, though all that came out was garbled noise.

“He’s very noisy, dear, don’t you think?” Lugnut rumbled as he followed them.

“Like all Sparklings,” Strika shrugged. “And there are ways around it if he’s not quiet.” Uh uh; why did Sentinel not like the sound of it? Strika looked down at him with a smirk and Sentinel nibbled at his lip, suddenly worried. But the gigantic Femme just nuzzled him and cooed.

“You’ll see baby, you’ll feel much better after a good bath, and with a clean nappy. Then we’ll show you your playpen, and Papa Lugnut will give you even more yummy fuel. You must be famished already!”

Sentinel twitched, thinking back about the pouches things. Ugh. Not again!


	5. Pacifier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel gets introduced to a new nightmare: the pacifier...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In answer to a self-made prompts: Lugnut, Strika, Sentinel - First pacifier  
> Writing long chapters for this story has become harder to my interest wandering toward other fics/bunnies, so all future 'chapters' will probably be prompts answer. <3

“Waaaaaaahhhhh! Waaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!”

Lugnut cringed softly as he heard the incessant wailing as he made his way to his new Sparkling’s room. “Hush, little one, Papa is here,” he mumbled as he reached for the small form of his newly adopted Autobot son. He started to gently rock him in his arms, making sure the grey cover with little Decepticon symbols and little Megatron’s faces was well tucked. He couldn’t risk his Sparkling taking a cold, after all!

His rockings didn’t seem to help calm little Sentinel, though. If anything, they seemed to excite him further, and the wailing of the Sparkling doubled. Lugnut, stoic, didn’t let it bother him as he continued to rock the little body and hum Sparkling lullabies. Even as he did, he let his EM field flare up, completely surrounding little Sentinel’s own to make sure his baby was drowned into his familiar presence. The ‘How to Properly Raise Your Sparkling’ manual had advised the method and it was foolproof, or so the few people Lugnut had asked to pretended.

It didn’t seem to work so well with Sentinel, though, because even if the Sparkling’s EM field reacted accordingly and seemed to welcome his Papa’s own, Sentinel was still crying and screaming.

“He won’t calm down?”

Lugnut raised his optics to look into Strika’s own as the femme entered the nursery, looking half-crossed and half-worried.

“Indeed not, my Love,” the teal and purple mech rumbled. “It worries me; he’ll end up short-circuiting his vocalizer at this rate.”

Well, that was a risk, Sentinel mused as he continued to intensify his screams and let more oily tears roll down his cheeks. If he had been able to, though, he would have looked quite smug.

Small and ‘defenseless’ he might be, but on his Spark, he wasn’t going to just abandon the fight against those filthy Decepticons! It would take more than miniaturizing him to take Sentinel Prime down!

Sure, he couldn’t pick up a blaster and take them down. Sure, he couldn’t escape this place due to all the surveillance he was subjected to -- and, he admitted grudgingly, his current lack of movement coordinations and his underdeveloped motor relays that forced him to crawl on his hands and knees. Sure, he had to deal with more indignities than he cared to remember right now. Sure, he had no resources, no allies he could rely to and was stuck into enemy territory.

But he still has his ways to fight!

True, getting on his captors’ central processors was a risky bet, but it seemed to work so far. Sentinel took great pleasure in exploding into loud cries in the middle of the two bulky Decepticons’ recharge cycle, just to wake them up before they could truly rest. He exploded into loud wails whenever they tried to watch Tri-D, or listen to music, or read, or… well, he cried whenever they did anything. He cried when they let him alone, he cried when they held him, he cried when they nuzzled or hugged him,...

He cried, he cried, and he cried more. Some times, Sentinel could admit it was because he was in genuine distress -- like the times where he suffered from leaks and dirtied the nappies things they forced him to wear. Most of the time, though, the shrunken Prime was just ‘fighting’ them the best he could. Sure, his incessant crying fits made him fall into recharge more often than he would have liked, but just to see the look of exhaustion on the two Decepticons’ faces, Sentinel considered it was worth it.

“Hush, little one,” Lugnut rumbled again, almost bouncing Sentinel in his arms.

“It’s no use,” Strika rumbled back as she came closer and cupped Sentinel’s little helm in her massive hand. “You won’t calm down, won’t you, sweetspark?”

Sentinel’s wails lost a few decibels as he started at the big, ugly femme’s face. She looked… very serious suddenly, and he dimly realized it wasn’t good for him. Still, he didn’t stop his crying; now that he had started, he wasn’t going to stop just because that Strika femme was very, very intimidating!

“Have you tried feeding him?” The purple and orange femme asked, looking at her mate.

“I fed him not even half a megacycle ago, my Love,” Lugnut shook his head, looking devastated. “His tanks can’t be empty already. He’s not wet -- I changed him not too long ago. Maybe he’s too tired to recharge?” he offered weakly. “I know he’s not hungry, even if he’d probably suck some fluid if I offered him my pouch. I’m afraid it would upset his tummy, though.”

“Humph. Perhaps it’s not so much feeding he needs, but something to suck on. And I think I’ve just the right thing,” Strika snorted before smiling thinly. Sentinel’s wails subsided briefly; was did that evil femme had in mind? He watched her with wary optics has she reached for her subspace pocket and took out a…

Well, Sentinel had no idea what it was. It looked vaguely like the nub of the pouches-things the ‘Cons insisted he feed from. Lugnut perked up at the sight.

“Oh? You bought him a pacifier, my Love?”

“Two dozens, actually,” Strika corrected as she smiled down at Sentinel, whose wails had almost stopped as he stared. “Open wide, baby. Mommy has a nice surprise for you,” she sing songed. Sentinel tried to clench his jaws, but with just enough force, Strika slipped the end of the device into his mouth, pushing it until a sort of mouthguard rested again the shrunken Prime’s lips. Sentinel tried to open his mouth to spit it out… only to find the device humming softly as the mouthguard seemed to become glued to his mouth. He tried to wail, but it came out as muffled. Plus, the nub part of the device was resting in his mouth in such a way he couldn’t help himself but start sucking on it.

It felt… strangely nice and soothing, even if no yummy fluid came out and...

What the Pit was that?! Sentinel fussed and groaned, but continued sucking, the mouthguard refusing to budge out.

“A polarity guard?” Lugnut inquired, lifting Sentinel’s up to better peer at his little face.

Strika nodded with satisfaction. “Indeed. They cost me more than I had anticipated, but it’s the last breakout in Sparkling’s equipment. Pacifiers were so easily lost! Well, not anymore. The polarized models stay on and in until an adult grab the handle and pull it off,” she explained as she caressed Sentinel’s helm briefly. “This way, there’s no risk to lose them if a Sparkling spits them out accidentally. And I think our baby likes them already, don’t you think?” she smiled, but the smile looked more like a smug smirk than anything else.

“It seems so,” Lugnut nodded, smiling as the two of them watched the quiet -- well, mostly quiet -- Sentinel as he continued to suck on the pacifier while trying to spit it out at the same time, and growing more and more frustrated with his failing efforts.

The shrunken Prime made a sound somewhere between a wail and a cry of frustration, mostly muffled by the pacifier.

Slagging Decepticons and their slagging torture device!

And he suckled some more as he was carried off to spend some more time with his ‘Papa and Mama’.


	6. Stroller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to go on a walk!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In answer to a self-made prompts: Lugnut, Sentinel - A walk with the stroller

He would have prefered to stay in the apartment, Sentinel decided as Lugnut paused yet again to salute another Decepticon accompanied by a small mechling walking by. Sucking distastefully on the pacifier stuffed in his mouth, the shrunken Prime glared at nothing and everything at once.

At first, the shrunken Autobot had thought getting out of his prison -- Lugnut and Strika’s luxurious apartment in the center of Iacon, of all place -- would have been nice. He had planned to mentally map out the place, the way they went, and to try and see all the various hiding places he could pick out. From an advantageous place in Lugnut’s arms, he could have seen it all, or so he had been certain of.

His plans had come crumbling down -- pretty much like the cube piles he was making to ‘amuse’ himself in the playpen -- the moment he was placed in some sort of transport specially designed for Sparklings, which had limited not only his head mobility, but also his point of view. Then the place they had headed out hadn’t been the rest of Iacon proper, no, but a new ‘park’ created right next to the apartment building, so Sentinel hadn’t been able to gather any tactical data or map out a possible path to follow should he be able to escape.

Not to mention, Lugnut kept stalling on his ‘walk’ in order to nod, stop and talk with most of the Decepticons he met. And of course, they all started to coo at Sentinel and congratulated Lugnut for having such an ‘adorable Sparkling’!

Stupid Decepticons! Stupid shrunken body! Stupid… stroller thing, he mentally added as he glared down at the rolling device in which he was strapped down. His little hands tried once more to tug at the belt, but his glare only intensified and he growled in frustration as he was, once again, unable to undo the buckle. He kicked and wiggled once more, little hands tightening into fists as he made distressed sounds.

The two adult Decepticons immediately focused on him, Lugnut bending down to gently rub his large knuckle over Sentinel’s helm, while the other Decepticon whose name Sentinel hadn’t caught looked down at him with an amused smile.

“My, is that your son, Lugnut?”

“Yes, that’s Sentinel, our new baby,” the teal and purple juggernaut of a mech boasted, obviously still feeling quite prideful over the whole matter -- despite being the twentieth time he announced to someone Sentinel was ‘his’ Sparkling. “Isn’t he adorable?”

“Totally,” the other Decepticon nodded, “though not as cute as my little Combusta.”

“I doubt so,” Lugnut replied, his tone slightly more frosty, obviously disgruntled someone could even dare to deny Sentinel was the ‘cutest thing ever’. Had he not been so grumpy about his current situation, Sentinel might also have glared as well -- he was a very handsome mech, thank you very much, so his shrunken form had to be handsome as well!

“Haha! Spoke like a true Sire or Carrier,” the other ‘Con chuckled. “Ours is always the cutest one ever. But seriously, you’re right, he’s a cutie. Especially in that little dress,” he added as he knelt to better look at Sentinel, who glowered unhappily while the teal and purple Decepticon beamed. Lugnut had indeed dressed him up before they went out, forcing Sentinel into one of his ‘best dress’, a white monstrosity with puffy sleeves. He had also, to the shrunken Prime’s utter humiliation, put little bows around each of Sentinel’s head fins.

The Decepticon cooed down at Sentinel before taking a step back. “I find it interesting you decided to adopt. I would have pinned you and Strika as wanting your very own?” he inquired politely.

“We’re trying for one as well,” Lugnut revealed, grunting. “But there’re so many little ones to take care of and educate right now that the glorious Lord Megatron reached his goal, it was our duty to make sure the next generation is properly taken care of, just as Lord Megatron asked us to.” He peered distrustfully at the other Decepticon. “You don’t agree?”

“Uh, sure, sure, I do agree. Can’t have those little Autobots growing up without proper direction,” the unknown Decepticon hastily said. “We even thought about it my mate and I, but you know how it goes; having to move back to Cybertron, getting settled down, getting a new job, plus we have a Sparkling of our own already and we also have to think about how she’d take the presence of a new sibling, yeah? Little ones get jealous so easily, we wouldn’t want a problem.”

Lugnut didn’t look happy, but nodded. “I suppose so,” he said curtly.

“As for why I’m so surprised you decided to adopt… It’s just… well, General Strika made no secret of her desire to Spark you up, yeah? So when I heard you two were having a Sparkling, I honestly thought she had managed to already. I know how determined she is; remember that siege on Karn when we conquered the planet, and she barged through that wall ‘cause she decided enough was enough and it was high time we finished that battle? She pummeled that whole bataillon into submission with a single fist! So, Sparking up her Consort…” He shrugged, but winked at Lugnut in a way that might have passed for friendly.

Lugnut, to Sentinel’s surprise, grunted again, but he sounded amused this time. “Trust me, she’s making a good job at trying to. It just hasn’t taken yet. Now that we have Sentinel, though, she’s most determined to give him a sibling before the stellar cycle is over. Our little one brought her mothering side to the foremost.”

Mothering side? Sentinel looked at the behemoth of a mech with a look of disbelief. The only thing that ugly femme had to be good at what wanton destruction!

“Must be quite a sight to behold,” the Decepticon said with awe -- awe! Sentinel couldn’t believe it.

“Of course,” Lugnut rumbled, as if it was perfectly normal. “She has make sure our son only has the best so far. The best clothes, the best toys -- she actually broke a few mechs radial struts the other day when she went to pick new ones for our little darlings. Sales on the toys, and there was only a few ones left,” he added as an explanation when the other Decepticon blinked in incomprehension.

“Oh. Ooooh, yes, that sounds like something she’d do. General Strika always gets what she wants.”

“That’s like that stroller,” Lugnut continued as he patted the transportation briefly. “Best model they had available, with tons of security systems to make sure Sentinel is well-protected against any outside threat. The cushion is self-heating or self-cooling, the belt are triple secured and can only be undone by the persons registered in its systems, it also generate a protective bubble against wind and acid rains. Oh, and its systems can monitor the Sparkling’s owns and send alert to the Creators should they fluctuate beyond the established normal parameters! Plus, it’s reclinable and transformable into a pram whenever it picks the Sparklings has dropped into recharge. There are only five models available so far, one of which is in the possession of our glorious Lord Megatron.”

The Decepticon blinked, and so did Sentinel. He hadn’t realized he was strapped down into a… a… well, he didn’t know how to call that stroller thing anymore; a more perfected cell? “Wow. You weren’t kidding about her wanting the best for your son,” he said after whistling. He looked down at Sentinel. “You, little one, are incredibly lucky to have such a devoted Mama, you know?”

Sentinel glared at him, sucking rapidly on the pacifier in his mouth to calm himself. Lucky… Yeah, right!

“Well, it was nice speaking with you Lugnut. Guess I’ll see you around here often, what’s with the kiddo needing some fresh air once in a while? ‘Cause I suppose you won’t go back to work anytime soon. Unless you’re planning to put your Sentinel into daycare?”

“Absolutely not!” Lugnut growled, before calming down and amending himself. “Well, daycare is an option, but not one we wish to use unless we have no choice. We just got our son, and we have no intention to let go of him anytime soon.” He bended down to pat Sentinel’s helm with a smile.

Sentinel almost keened. Well, so much for his escape plans, if those two oafs continued to watch him like cyberhawks! Grumbling as he would around the pacifier and crossing his little arms over his chest, the shrunken Prime didn’t bother to pay attention to the goodbyes the two mechs exchanged. He only glared more as the stroller started to roll again, his glare easing as his optics started to flicker as he was gently rocked by the move of the wheels.

He was back in recharge even before Lugnut stopped once more to greet another Decepticon and boast again over his new Sparling’s ‘cuteness’...


	7. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel is unwell, and Lugnut and Strika panic/are good (scary) parents...

He felt… utterly miserable. Sentinel whined feebly, cheek burrowed into the soft fur of one of the numerous ‘plushies’ things his jailers, Lugnut and Strika, had placed in his berth. His fuel tank felt so weird; he could almost hear the fluids flushing and sploshing inside. His frame felt too hot and yet too cold at the same time, and he had a weird taste in the mouth, like under-processed energon, which made him want to gag.

Ugh. He felt so… so unwell!

Any other time, he could have been screaming at the top of his vocalizer to annoy his jailers -- especially since, for once, they hadn’t tucked that stupid pacifier thing into his mouth. Today, though, he just wanted to whimper and curl into a ball of miserable shrunken Prime.

There was a noise, a big noise coming closer. Distantly, Sentinel identified it as Lugnut or Strika’s loud steps in the corridor as they made their way to the ‘nursery’, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His processor was spinning, and it was making him dizzy.

A shadow fell over him. “Aww, have my baby finished his nap already?” Lugnut cooed as he reached down to pick Sentinel up. The shrunken Autobot just whimpered and stayed limp in his arms. Ooooh, the dizziness was increasing…

Above him, he could make out Lugnut frowning, his optic shining intently as it narrowed. “Baby? Baby, are you…?”

It went out suddenly. One moment Lugnut was bending down worriedly to peer at Sentinel’s closer, noticing how hot his frame felt under his hands and hearing the soft distressed whimper he was producing. The next moment, he was leaning back suddenly, holding Sentinel’s small frame away from him as unprocessed, regurgited energon dripped all over his chin and Lugnut’s chest.

Lugnut stared. Sentinel tried to stare back, but only whimpered and hiccuped against before purging his tank again.

Lugnut took a deep breath through his intakes, trying to calm himself. It lasted for about three kliks before he started to bellow in panic. “STRIKA!!!!!!!!!!!!”

*-*-*-*-*

“Hush, little one,” Lugnut rumbled as he rocked Sentinel gently against his frame, installed in one of the living room couch. “Mama is soon going to be back with the medic, and he’ll make sure you don’t have an upset tummy anymore, yes?”

Sentinel just whined and shuttered his optics. ‘Upset tummy’ barely covered how he felt! Though knowing a medic was coming was nice. And the whole fretting over him also had its good sides… even if he would have prefered it didn’t come from stupid Decepticons! For now, though, he could truly appreciate Lugnut holding him close, rocking him to calm him down and occasionally trying to spoon-fed him some kind of generic medical-grade oil -- something both him and Strika had debated at length, wondering if it would cause him harm or not.

It certainly didn’t rest more easily on Sentinel’s fuel tank, the Prime thought sourly before he gagged as he fought down another purge of his tank.

“Aw, my poor baby,” Lugnut rumbled softly, one of his big claws sliding under the blanket he had used to cover Sentinel to gently rub his belly. Sentinel just whimpered.

“... down! Have you heard me, lady? Put me down or I’ll call down the Enforcers! I swear I’ll do! General of the Empire or not, you’re going to have big problems and… are you even listening to anything I’m saying?!”

That didn’t sound like any Decepticon Sentinel knew. Then again, he felt so miserable and sick his audios might have been playing tricks on him. Lugnut perked up immediately, though, as he heard the voice coming from the outside even as the security code for the entry door was punched.

Sure enough, Strika came barging in, and despite his dizziness, Sentinel couldn’t help but blink. He probably would have laughed had he not felt so miserable, because it was so ridiculous to see Strika coming in, a look of utter determination on her face, while carrying another Decepticon over her shoulder upside down as if he was a bag of Photon-Potatoes.

“Strika! Put me down this instant, slag it!” The new Decepticon shouted as he tried to slide out of the large femme’s grasp.

“Language, Hook! My Sparkling is present!” Strika snapped as she dropped him to the ground, where he fell on his aft. It was rather comical, and Sentinel certainly would have laughed if he hadn’t been hiccuping sickly and trying vainly not to purge what little energon was left in his tank. Strika yanked the newcomer -- a medic, Sentinel realized as he noticed the medical symbol painted on one shoulder -- up with one hand and glared at him. “Fix him! Now!”

“Seriously?” the mech blinked in disbelief. “You basically kidnapped me from my hotel to fix your sick Sparkling? Strika, did you headbutt Blackout again? Because you certainly have a few screws loose! There are plenty of Sparklings specialists and medics available in Iacon itself so you don’t have to resort to extreme measures! It was my solar cycle off, sl… damnit!” he amended quickly at the way the large femme narrowed her optics.

“Knock Out was out of town today and I certainly wasn’t going to trust some subpar medic with my precious baby!” the femme snapped back. “Now fix him, or I’m going to do more than headbutt you!” She pushed him toward Lugnut and Sentinel. Hook stumbled but managed not to fall down, although he cursed under his breath.

“Give him to me,” the disgruntled medic mumbled as he walked over to Lugnut who, with some hesitation, handed over his precious cargo. Sentinel whimpered feebly as he changed hands, and even more so as he was laid down on the couch and the blanket covering his frame removed. He felt a slight tingling over his body as Hook activated a scan, and he shuttered his optics as the light shining overhead started to bother him.

He barely followed half of the discussion between the three ‘Cons, too busy shuddering as, after feeling as if his frame was on firm, he now felt as if he was freezing.

“When did you notice the first symptoms?... yes, I see he has purged, thank you; how many times, though?... no, the oil wasn’t a bad idea, though you probably should have diluted it before, he might have been able to hold some of it better. And what about… hmm, I don’t like the look of those fluctuations… _calm down!_ Just because I said I didn’t like it doesn’t mean he’s getting worse or is in any worse danger!... benign, really, a typical tank virus. I suspect some of his firewalls didn’t hold up as well as they should have, he’ll need an upgrade quicker than expected… No, he’s in no danger of deactivating, at least not at the moment… **Lugnut, can you hold that screaming fury you call your Consort before she rips my arm off?!** He won’t deactivate, and he won’t suffer permanent harm to his fuel tank, but… Well, you know how delicate a Sparkling’s internal temperature regulation systems are; even once the virus is purged out of his systems, he’ll be on the long haul before they’re back to perfect shape, even with the firewalls upgrades… you continue to do as you did previously: you give him a few spoons of medical oil at least one per megacycle, you continue to breastfeed him to give him uncontaminated energon, and you keep him covered… the heat regulation blanket will not be enough. At his age, they love to kick, move and… clothes would be best, yes; I can furnish you with two sets of standard Sparklings dresses immediately, though you’ll have to invest into much more. As I said, whole orbital cycles before he… ‘m a medic, not an expert on fashion! Deal with Swindle, I don’t know! And now, if you don’t need me anymore, I’d really like to go back to my hotel!”

Sentinel felt he was being lifted up and pressed against a warm chest. Purple and orange appeared in his vision field, making him aware it was Strika who was currently holding him. He whimpered again.

“Shush, little one. Mama is going to take good care of you. Lugnut, you heard Hook; go pick those meds and the clothes we’ll need! I don’t care if they’re ugly for now, just find some. And when our baby is better, we’ll be going on a big shopping trip with him. Won’t you like that, sweetspark?” she cooed at Sentinel.

The shrunken Prime just hiccuped. Whatever. Though he wondered… what were ‘clothes’, exactly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, that's how Sentinel ended in the dress he wears in the 'Silly' chapter of '28 Woes', among other things. XD  
> (check out the chapter if you never read it!)


	8. Wardrobe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel discovers his new clothes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Regen verse: Sentinel -trying on the new wardrobe

“I refuse to have him risk his delicate health, Lugnut,” Strika rumbled, looking at her Bonded with a look that let no argument, and the teal and purple mech nodded. In his massive arms, Sentinel squirmed and wailed, trying once more to fruitlessly free himself. Would those two slaggers ever let him alone? With dread, he watched the piles of… something neatly packed over the two large Decepticons’ berth. It looked like some kind of fabric, but far more colorful than the one most Autobots used to clean and polish themselves. It was almost strangly folded, and the blue mechling didn’t think he wanted to know what it was.

“I agree, my Love. I was just saying that it look like a lot,” Lugnut tried to appease her, gently rocking Sentinel in his arms to try and sooth her. “Are you really sure our Sparkling needs so many clothes?”

Strika snorted. “You know how Sparklings are; always getting messy -- even if our little Sentinel is a model of cleanliness and adorableness,” she said as she stroked the Sparkling-sized mech with a large digit, smiling faintly. “The point is, he’ll probably need several changes a day, depending on his activities. And let’s not forget he’ll need extra layers to go out when we’ll take him on a stroll or on a playdate with other Sparklings. I would also think a few nice clothes would do him good for when we must receive guests or if we must bring him before Lord Megatron. I want my baby to look his best, after all.”

Lugnut rumbled. “Of course, my Love. I hadn’t thought of it. Still, are you sure you have the right size? Some of those things look… small.”

“Swindle assured me they were made of stretchable material,” the femme answered. “Of course, Sentinel will need to try them on for us to be sure. If he lied, that merchant will hear from me,” she warned.

The megacycle which followed was one of the most humiliating Sentinel had endured so far. Forget about the ‘nappies’ thing and the whole ‘leaks’ he kept having. Forget about having to suck fluid out of a weird device on the massive Decepticons’ chests. Having them ‘dress him up in pretty little dresses’ was the worse thing ever!


End file.
